


Harmonicas For Soft and Instant Lovers

by HellsLittleLiar



Series: O let me, true in love, but truly write [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety, Awkward Flirting, First Meetings, Fluff, Love at First Sight, M/M, Modern Era, POV Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Pre-Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Pre-Relationship, general embarrassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27904495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HellsLittleLiar/pseuds/HellsLittleLiar
Summary: Geralt walks into a music shop and falls in love.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: O let me, true in love, but truly write [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2024696
Comments: 26
Kudos: 214





	Harmonicas For Soft and Instant Lovers

This was the third music shop Geralt had been to, having utterly embarrassed himself at the first two. He didn’t know why but he had no idea how to talk to people like a normal human being. Speaking had never been a talent of his and whenever he did manage to open his mouth, he tended to regret it.

The first shop he had been to had employed an overly friendly sales assistant who had started talking the moment Geralt entered the door and didn’t stop until he turned around and walked straight back out, overwhelmed with the sudden influx of information that was force-fed to him. Geralt had been taking a different route home for the past week, so he could avoid walking past that particular shop ever again. He didn’t want to accidentally make eye contact with the sales assistant. It only added five minutes to his journey, which wasn’t very long at all.

He had thought it was promising in the second shop when the sales assistant didn’t even look up from his book when Geralt entered, but then he had spent far too long hovering in front of the display wall of guitars. He didn’t know how long he had spent there, but it must have been quite a while because the dismissive sales assistant actually approached him and asked if he needed any help. Geralt had turned to face him and, when he had seen Geralt’s expression, he had turned pale and stuttered before fleeing to the back room. That happened quite often, although Geralt wasn’t sure how to stop; people tended to be intimidated by the size of him, by his generally unsmiling expression, by his lack of ability to communicate. It was a shame, really, especially since that time Geralt had truly needed help.

Geralt took a deep breath before entering the third music shop this week. This time, he promised himself, he would manage to interact with the sales assistant without humiliating himself or terrifying them. He would be perfectly polite and pleasant, perhaps even friendly. Then at the end, he would walk out of the shop with an instrument to play for Roach and her friends to help keep them calm, and he would not be forced to hide his face in his pillow late at night and replay the interaction over and over again, wondering how he could fix it.

Geralt had always suspected that he was cursed with bad luck. He thought that his suspicions were confirmed to be true as he walked straight into the door frame.

He yelped in pain and surprise and the gorgeous sales assistant who had distracted him enough to walk into a fucking door frame jumped at the noise and looked up at him with wide, bright blue eyes. His dark brunette hair framed his face to show off his high cheekbones and soft jawline, his blue eyes shone with concern and sparkled like waves on the ocean, his pretty pink mouth gasped in surprise. Oh, how Geralt wished to kiss those soft, pouty lips. He wished to run his hands through that soft, shiny hair. He wished to cup that face with his rough, unworthy hands. He wished to kneel before the man and worship him. He wished for the man to tell him exactly what he wanted and Geralt would give him anything. Anything.

Geralt whimpered.

The sales assistant stood up quickly from his chair and hopped over the counter, looking worried. He walked up to him and cupped Geralt’s face in his hands, as Geralt had wished to do to him. He pulled Geralt’s face forwards slightly to inspect it and Geralt felt his knees weaken in response to the commanding touch. He forced himself not to collapse right there in the middle of the shop.

“Are you alright?” The sales assistant asked as he brushed his thumb across Geralt’s cheekbone. His voice was as gorgeous as he was; it was fitting for such a musical creature to make his living off music. Geralt nodded silently, desperately trying to think of something to say that would not make him immediately regret opening his mouth. He could feel his face burn and that his eyes were widened. If only he had more control over his facial expressions; then perhaps he could even attempt a friendly smile at the sales assistant. He probably looked terrifying to the poor man in front of him.

All of a sudden, the sales assistant seemed to realise what he was doing and quickly let go of Geralt’s face. Geralt felt himself automatically lean forward to try to keep the contact for as long as possible. His face tingled where hands had touched him only seconds before.

“A-are you sure you’re alright? Only, that looked quite painful! And it was so loud as well! I have some painkillers if you’d like- No, I suppose that would be rather silly to accept drugs from someone you don’t know, wouldn’t it? I do have an ice pack though, in my first aid kit! Wait here, I’ll go and get it, alright? Stay here, take a seat-” He gestured to the bar stool next to a row of guitars. “I’ll grab it and I’ll be right back and we’ll make you feel better, alright?”

Any fantasies Geralt had of disappearing from this shop and extending his walk even further so he never had to pass it again were dashed when the sales assistant did not even leave the room. He returned to the counter which he had been sitting behind and opened a drawer. He pulled out a strangely full first aid kit. It seemed overstocked for a music shop. Perhaps he was clumsy? Or did a lot of customers come in and hurt themselves? Was he not the only one who had walked into the door frame at the sight of the man? Maybe he was so used to people falling all over themselves to talk to him that he no longer bothered to acknowledge it and simply kept a fully stocked first aid kit instead?

Geralt obediently sat on the stool pointed out to him and waited. He had promised himself he wouldn’t be humiliated this time but it was far too late for that. He would just have to accept whatever his fate held for him.

“I’m Jaskier by the way.” The sales assistant introduced himself. “I just thought you should know since we’re about to get more intimately acquainted.”

Geralt squirmed in his seat at the thought of getting intimate with Jaskier.

“Geralt.” He mumbled back.

“That’s your name?”

“Y-yes.” Geralt blushed. He couldn’t even introduce himself properly to the most attractive man he had ever seen. It was no wonder he sat awake at night regretting every interaction he ever had.

“That’s a pretty name, Geralt.” Jaskier smiled. Geralt had never thought of anything about himself as pretty before but it did sound pretty in Jaskier’s voice.

“You’re prettier.” Geralt blurted out before he could stop himself. Fuck. What was wrong with him? He had no trouble staying quiet and not saying anything more than necessary every other day of his life, so why had his mouth decided to overtake his brain on today of all days?

“O-oh!” Jaskier squeaked. His face turned an adorably charming pink as he lowered his eyes bashfully. “Th-thank you.”

He looked pleased. Perhaps Geralt hadn’t ruined his first impression entirely. Jaskier might even agree to be friends!

Jaskier walked over and stood in front of him, closer than Geralt expected. He was close enough that Geralt was forced to spread his knees slightly more open than they already were to accommodate him. He felt his breath hitch as Jaskier curled one finger under his chin and tilted his head up. For one bizarre, titillating moment, Geralt thought Jaskier was going to kiss him. Instead of pressing their mouths together in a sweet, gentle kiss, Jaskier pressed the frozen ice pack onto Geralt’s sore face. He had almost forgotten about his idiotic injuries, so overwhelmed with Jaskier’s presence, but now he hissed at the sting of the cold.

“S-sorry! Shit, I’m sorry.” Jaskier apologised nervously. “I should have warned you before I just went and shoved ice on your face.”

Geralt shrugged off his apology. It didn’t really hurt, other than the initial shock of it. Even if it had hurt him, he felt as though he would let Jaskier do anything he wanted to him. Jaskier lightened his touch and pressed the ice pack down slightly more gently than before, not that he needed to. Geralt shivered as Jaskier’s fingers brushed against his cheek, and was grateful he would be able to brush it off as a matter of the cold if Jaskier questioned it.

“So, Geralt,” Jaskier said after a few seconds of silence between them. “What brings you to my humble shop?”

Jaskier owned the shop? He didn’t look old enough to run a business, not that Geralt could talk about that, running a horse sanctuary by himself at age twenty two. He wondered how old Jaskier was.

“Need an instrument.” Geralt mumbled.

Jaskier’s face fell. “O-oh… right. Of course. Silly me, of course I should have known that, seeing as this is a music shop, after all. May I ask what kind of instrument you’re looking for? Or, oh! I could guess what instrument you play! That might be a fun game. What do you say?” He didn’t wait for Geralt to answer before he began his attempts to guess. “Guitar? Ukulele? Flute? Saxophone? Tambourine- no, of course it’s not a tambourine, what am I saying? Banjo? Trumpet? Triangle?”

Geralt shook his head for each one, not wanting to ruin Jaskier’s fun, and too nervous to admit he didn’t actually play a single thing.

Jaskier pouted. He hadn’t realised the man could get any more adorable but here he was, proving Geralt wrong. “Okay, okay, I give up. What instrument do you play?”

“None.” He grunted.

“O-oh. Are you shopping for a gift, then? Maybe for a lady friend?” He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Not, not really.” Geralt wondered what a lady friend was and whether Roach counted, as she was both his friend and a lady. “I-I want… to learn.”

“I can teach you!” Jaskier volunteered immediately.

Geralt didn’t know what to do with the discovery that Jaskier was kind as well as handsome. He wanted to know everything about Jaskier. How impossibly perfect could the man be? Surely there must be something, just one single thing that was wrong with him? Otherwise there would be no way for such a person to exist. He watched Jaskier’s face break into a smile at the thought of teaching Geralt and felt his heart beat faster. It was as though someone had reached into Geralt’s mind and taken every fantasy partner he ever had to create the man of his dreams in real life. They had only just met but in their short interaction Geralt could tell that Jaskier was kind and caring and sweet; he hadn’t seemed bothered at all by Geralt’s grunting and short answers; he hadn’t even laughed at Geralt when he had walked into the door frame, although he knew he looked ridiculous.

“That’s not necessary.” Geralt said, relieved he hadn’t blurted out one of his many other pathetic thoughts like ‘Never take your hands off my face’ or ‘I could listen to you talk forever’ or ‘I’m in love with you’.

Jaskier’s smile dropped from his face again and Geralt floundered around for the words capable of fixing this terrible situation. “I-I don’t even know which instrument I’m to be learning just yet.”

“You don’t know which one you want to learn? Most people decide before they even start shopping. Don’t you worry, if it’s in here, I know how to play it and I can teach you.”

“Yes, I was going to ask what the best instrument is for begin- wait, you know how to play _all_ of these instruments?” Geralt looked around at the wide array of instruments, some of which he recognised and some of which he didn’t. It didn’t seem possible for anyone to be able to play them all. How could one person have enough time to learn all of that in one lifetime? Jaskier was incredible.

Jaskier blushed and ducked his head. “I-I know it must seem like a-a waste of time and effort, but it-it makes me happy.”

“Then it is not a waste.”

Jaskier looked back at him and met his eyes before he smiled shyly, smaller than before. “You think so?”

“Anything that makes you happy is not wasted.”

“Y-yes! I suppose you’re right! Everyone should do what makes them happy.”

Geralt hadn’t meant it generally. He only meant that anything that put a smile on Jaskier’s face was an excellent thing, but he was happy Jaskier had cheered up at his reassurance.

Jaskier carefully lifted the ice pack from Geralt’s face.

“There. Do you feel better now, Geralt?”

“Hm.”

“Good. I’m glad. Are you still feeling up to shopping now you’ve been greviously wounded?”

“I am sure I will manage, somehow.”

Jaskier giggled. It was a beautiful sound. Geralt wouldn’t mind humiliating himself for the rest of his life if only it meant that he could hear Jaskier laugh each and ever day. Fuck. Geralt had never felt like this before, especially not for someone he had just met. He didn’t even know if Jaskier was single or anything else about him. Other than the fact he volunteered to teach complete strangers and that he could play every instrument in his shop which indicated that he was disciplined and creative and hard working and talented. And that he had immediately leapt into action to take care of Geralt when he injured himself.

He stood up as Jaskier hopped over the counter to put his first aid kit away and then hopped back to land in front of where Geralt was standing. He fought the urge to spread his legs open again, as he had done the last time Jaskier stood that close to him.

“You said you wanted a beginner’s instrument?”

Geralt nodded.

“Great! Well, the good news is that they’re all beginner’s instruments!” Jaskier spread his arms out to indicate the entire shop. “Anyone can pick up an instrument and learn the basics – you only need to know a couple of chords to be able to play a song! You pretty much have your pick of anything here and I can show you the basics before you go aaaand from the expression on your face I can tell that you actually hate the idea of having to pick from all of these instruments so you just sit tight and I will narrow down your options for you! How does that sound?”

He nodded his agreement quickly. Thank the gods that Jaskier had noticed how panic-stricken he felt at being given such a wide variety of choice. Jaskier tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“Most people start off learning piano or keyboard.”

He shook his head. “Too big. Needs to be, hm, portable.”

“Ooh, intriguing!” Jaskier gasped. “What a mystery! Where are you going to be playing your portable instrument, Geralt? Busking, perhaps?”

Geralt felt the blood drain from his face at the thought of performing in front of other people.

“No, not busking. Maybe I was right earlier when I mentioned a lady friend? Are you, perhaps, planning on serenading her? Oh, darling, I bet you have a beautiful singing voice. I can just tell these things.”

Geralt gasped at the pet name but Jaskier didn’t bother to acknowledge it. Did Jaskier call everyone darling or was it just a slip of the tongue? Geralt didn’t draw attention to it, so he could pretend Jaskier was already fond enough of him to call him by a pet name. Nobody could argue with this in the privacy of his own mind.

“I do not sing.” He truly hoped Jaskier would not be too disappointed in him. He seemed so enthusiastic at the thought of Geralt singing.

“Just because you _don’t,_ doesn’t mean you _can’t!_ Now tell me, was I right?”

Geralt felt a small smile tugging at his own lips. “Depends. Do you count horses as lady friends?”

“You own horses?”

“I own one horse. The others are residents at the horse sanctuary I run.”

“You own a horse sanctuary?”

“Hm.” A lot of people found his choice of profession ridiculous. He hoped Jaskier wasn’t one of them.

“That’s so sweet!” Jaskier cooed and Geralt felt his face heat up again. “I bet those horses are so grateful to you for helping them.”

“Horses do not feel gratitude.”

“Because they’re animals or just because horses are particularly rude?”

Geralt snorted in amusement.

“Okay, something portable, something portable.” Jaskier mused. “How about a guitar? No, probably not, unless you wanted to ride around on your horse looking like a country singer.” Jaskier dragged his eyes slowly up and down Geralt’s body and he could feel his gaze burning into him. “Although you could pull off the country singer look, I think. Actually you can probably pull off any look you want.”

Geralt felt his mouth dry up at the compliment. He swallowed thickly. Jaskier really thought he could pull off any look? Geralt knew practically nothing about fashion, as evidenced by his plain black jeans, t-shirt and jacket combination which he wore every day. Geralt would let Jaskier dress him, if he wanted. He would wear anything Jaskier asked him to. If Jaskier thought he would look more attractive dressed as a country singer, then Geralt would don a plaid shirt and cowboy boots.

Fuck. As soon as he walked through the door at home, Eskel and Lambert would be able to tell something strange was going on with him. They were going to drag it out of him that he had fallen in love at first sight then they were going to tease him relentlessly. They usually made fun of his lack of emotions whenever they teamed up together, so they would be merciless about this. The next few weeks until one of them did something ridiculous were going to be insufferable.

“You know what would be a good instrument to play for your horses?” Jaskier said, oblivious to Geralt’s internal monologuing. “A harmonica! It’s super easy to learn a few notes and make it into a tune and once you’ve got the hang of it, the sound can be so relaxing! That’s why you want to play for the horses, right? To relax them? I can’t imagine it’s to get them riled up.”

“Hm.” Geralt confirmed. “A couple of them- they’re not sleeping- I read music could help so- hm.”

_Finish a fucking sentence, idiot._ Geralt thought to himself. What sort of dreadful impression are you trying to give Jaskier? Do you want him to think of you as a moron who couldn’t form words? Do you want him to think you simple? Or unfriendly?

He had already made Jaskier’s acquaintance by walking into a fucking door frame. It couldn’t possibly get any worse from there, surely.

Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s hand and his mind went blank, his thoughts immediately wiped away. Jaskier pulled him over to the other side of the shop, where the harmonicas were and began explaining the different types and their pros and cons but Geralt couldn’t possibly pay attention. Jaskier was holding his hand. He watched Jaskier’s face as he talked. Gods, he was so handsome, so friendly, so helpful. What was such a sweet, kind man doing holding Geralt’s hand?

No, seriously, why was he still holding Geralt’s hand? After he had put Geralt exactly where he wanted him- and wasn’t that a thought which set off a burning fire in Geralt’s stomach- he hadn’t let go. Geralt reluctantly tore his gaze away from Jaskier’s handsome face to look down at their intertwined hands. Jaskier had really nice hands. They were warm and gentle and held Geralt so carefully that he felt as though he might cry at the touch. He had callouses which must have developed from playing his many instruments and his fingers were long and delicate. His fingernails were cut short and clean.

How would Jaskier react, Geralt wondered, if he gave into his instinct to press a chaste kiss to the back of his knuckles. He didn’t, but he did softly brush his thumb across them. He immediately regretted giving into the urge when Jaskier looked down at their intertwined hands and immediately let go, stuttering an apology.

“S-sorry! Sorry, I forgot- I didn’t mean to-”

“I don’t mind.” Geralt whispered, flexing his hand in the empty space where Jaskier’s hand used to be. What would Jaskier do if Geralt took his hand once more? Would he pull away? Or would he hold on tighter? Would he ask Geralt what the fuck he thought he was doing? That would be the normal response to a man that looked like Geralt displaying such tenderness, such softness. Jaskier might even continue his streak of being the most perfect human being alive and simply allow Geralt to hold his hand without questioning it. In the end, Geralt was far too much of a coward to find out. He put his hands in his pockets.

“This one would be good for a beginner.” Jaskier hesitantly held up a harmonica and Geralt carefully took it from him, his fingers brushing the back of Jaskier’s hand, the closest act to holding it that he was allowed. Jaskier let him take the harmonica then curled his hand into his own chest, as though he had been burnt.

“I’ll take it.”

“Really? Just like that? Don’t you want to ask any questions about it first?”

“I trust that you know what you’re talking about.”

Jaskier looked startled, as though nobody had told him that before. Someone must have, at some point since he was so incredibly knowledgable about music. He must have just been startled by Geralt saying such a thing. Many people expected him to be cruel or dismissive because of how cold he looks. His chest hurt at the thought of Jaskier being one of those people; he didn’t want Jaskier to be fearful of him or to hate him.

“I-I can show you how to use it, if you’d like?”

“Hm.” Geralt agreed enthusiastically. He would love to see Jaskier play an instrument. He was sure the music he created would be beautiful, just like the rest of him. For a moment, Geralt thought Jaskier was going to demonstrate on the harmonica he was buying. He thought about using the harmonica right after Jaskier, pressing his mouth exactly where Jaskier’s had been. It was overwhelming. To his simultaneous disappointment and relief, Jaskier pulled a harmonica out of his own pocket and demonstrated how to hold it and where to blow into it.

“Thank you.” Geralt said as Jaskier rung him up and scribbled down a handwritten receipt before putting both the receipt and the harmonica into a brown paper bag. Jaskier caught Geralt’s curious look at the receipt and blushed the same charming pink he had earlier.

“Sorry. I-I only opened the shop a couple of weeks ago and I don’t have a proper cash register yet, so I have to write out all the receipts.”

Geralt nodded at the obvious cash register on the counter and raised his eyebrows.

“That’s just for display. It doesn’t work – it doesn’t even open, to be honest with you. But let’s keep that our little secret, alright?” Jaskier winked consiprationally and Geralt couldn’t help but blush and smile in return.

“Hm.” He promised. He would keep Jaskier’s secret between them. He accepted the brown paper bag handed to him and hugged it close to his chest.

“Remember to come back and let me know if your horses enjoy their new music!”

“I-I will.” Geralt agreed. Thank the gods, Jaskier had given him a reason to come back. He didn’t know what he would have done if he was never able to see Jaskier again.

Jaskier waved cheerily as Geralt walked away and Geralt waved back shyly. He was so distracted, he was almost surprised when he slammed straight into the door frame for the second time that day.

**Author's Note:**

> Haha get it? He walked INTO the music- you know what, I'll see myself out.
> 
> There will be a Jaskier POV of their first meeting in the very near future too, if you like this one! Thank you for reading & please leave a comment if you enjoyed it <3


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